


The Decision

by LadyLingua



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Gen, author is pro-choice af, you've been warned so do not @ me with nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 04:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14465163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLingua/pseuds/LadyLingua
Summary: Spoilers for Tortall: A Spy’s Guide. Alanna discovers something shocking, and must come to a life-changing decision.





	The Decision

**I. Discovery**

  
It had been a bad summer.

At first it was mostly aches and pains, things Alanna had just begrudgingly begun to accept were part of the process of aging. It was odd though; she usually felt her joints most strongly during the cold winter months, but Alanna supposed this summer had been rather damp. The constant puking was much harder to chalk up to the season. The first few times the smell from the mess tent had made her stomach churn, Alanna thought perhaps it was just that they had changed cooks. When vomiting up her meals started to become a semi-regular occurrence, Alanna tried to convince herself that she had probably caught some kind of illness from one of the Scanran refugee families she had treated, and it would pass. By late September, however, Alanna was forced to admit that this was no ordinary illness.

One night, as Alanna readied herself for bed in her small tent, she began counting the amount of time that had passed since she had first started feeling regularly nauseated. Her stomach fluttered as it dawned on her that it had been over a month, and Alanna felt ice cold fear drip down her spine. She could deny it no longer: this was serious. Dying on a battlefield was one thing, but slowly wasting away from some sort of intestinal disease was quite another. Alanna tried to take a deep breath to slow her pounding heart and calm her now roiling stomach, but it was too late: she just barely made it to a basin in time.

After she had ceased being sick, Alanna wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, considering her options. There was a healer in their encampment, but he was an older man who smelled like used leather boots that had been left too long in the sun. If she really was dying, he was definitely not the person whom she wanted to deliver that news. Alanna chewed her thumbnail as she thought, still holding the basin on her lap. Neal was stationed at New Haven with Kel, which was easy enough to get to. Alanna trusted her former squire, both in his ability as a healer and as a keeper of her secrets. She would have to find a pretense to travel to New Haven as soon as may be, but until then all she could do was try to get some sleep. With a resigned sigh, Alanna slid into her bedroll, carefully leaving the basin within reach, just in case.

That night, Alanna dreamt of her oldest child. In her dreams, Thom was just a baby again. Alanna was holding him in her arms, nursing him, and smiling down into his bright green eyes. She admired his precious chubby cheeks, his adorable mop of red curls, and his beaky little nose. Every inch of him was perfect, and Alanna marveled that she could have produced such a faultless being. As he contently suckled, Thom traced her chest scar with one hand, just as he always had. He felt solid in her arms, and Alanna could imagine his sweet, milky baby scent as he snuggled into her hold. Suddenly, a noise somewhere far off caught her attention, and Alanna looked up, away from Thom. The instant she broke eye contact with him, Thom disappeared from her arms, and reappeared in front of her, looking like the grown man he now was: tall, bearded, and wearing the robes of a mage. Alanna tried to call to him, to ask him to come back to her, but he didn’t seem to hear. She fought to reach for him, struggling with arms that felt like lead. Thom began to walk away from her, and Alanna cried out. Just as she was about to scream his name again, Alanna jerked awake with a yelp.

For a moment she lay in the dark of her tent, panting and sweating, listening to the night sentries’ hushed voices and trying to place where she was. As the essence of her dream faded away, and the sounds of the army encampment came back into focus, Alanna’s mind finally put together the truth she had been avoiding for several months now.

“ _Shit!_ ” Alanna gasped as she leapt from her bed.

She stood stock still for a moment, turning over the signs in her head, all the things she had (impossibly, stupidly, foolishly) missed. Feelings of both certainty and subsequent dread swept over Alanna. She sat heavily on her bedroll, fist balled against her mouth as though that could somehow force her sudden realization back into the recesses of her mind.

“Shit,” whispered Alanna. The word seemed to hang in the air in front of her as she sat alone in the darkness of her rough camp tent, miles and miles away from home.

* * *

 

**II. Certainty**

  
If Alanna had ever harbored any doubts about Neal’s ability to be a kind and empathetic healer (and she hadn’t), they would definitely have been gone now. Later, when she replayed this moment in her mind, she knew she would always be grateful for the gentle way Neal had confirmed her pregnancy, how he had not once questioned how she could possibly have missed the signs for so long. How he had passed no comment about the fact that she hadn’t thought to check her charm after the mage attacked her back in April, which was stupid, stupid, _so incredibly stupid_ of her. How Neal said nothing about the fact that his former knight-mistress’s reaction to the certain knowledge of her pregnancy was not an outpouring of joy or elation, but to bring her fist to her mouth again and to tightly bounce her leg as she desperately tried to make sense of this radically different future opening up before her. And in particular, Alanna was immensely grateful for the kind way that Neal quietly asked her, without a trace of judgment, if she wanted to discuss her various options.

“No, I…I know my options,” Alanna had replied after a moment. Another long silence had passed before she sighed deeply and said, “ _Mithros_ , I would give anything for George to be here right now.” At this, her stomach churned again, and she supposed that she must have looked the way she felt because Neal quickly found her a basin. After a moment of breathing deeply through her nose, Alanna felt the urge to puke slowly subside.

“I’m sorry that he isn’t,” Neal said gently, once he was sure she wasn’t going to vomit. After a beat he hesitantly asked, “You’re certain you conceived in May?”

Alanna was impressed by the way Neal maintained his composure, despite the fact that she was pretty sure this was the absolute last thing he wanted to be discussing with the old lady who used to mentor him. She nodded. “I’m certain. There’s absolutely no other time it could have happened.”

Neal sighed. “I know you’re aware of this, but, should you decide not to continue with the pregnancy, you’re going to want to do that sooner rather than later. The longer you wait, the more complicated the next step will be.”

Alanna nodded. She of course did know this, she was the one who had taught Neal how an abortion worked. But she appreciated that Neal was doing what a healer was supposed to do, verify that his patient had all of the pertinent information. She also understood Neal’s reminder was meant to serve as clarification that a decision ought not to wait for the time it would take to write to and receive a reply from George. She was going to need to choose the next step alone.

“I think I need to go back to my camp,” Alanna said finally. Neal opened his mouth to object, and Alanna raised a hand. “I mean first thing tomorrow, I can see that it’s too late tonight. I may not be able to competently use a fertility charm, but I’m not a complete fool, _Nealan_.” Neal had visibly relaxed at her peevish tone and light chiding, as though it were the signal he needed to know that she was going to be alright.

Neal walked her to the chamber reserved for guests of New Haven, telling her stories about the people who called the place home. Alanna tried her best to listen to him, and to respond the way she would have otherwise, but she knew she had never been good at faking her emotions. Neal seemed undeterred, and Alanna appreciated his valiant attempt at normalcy.

“Well, goodnight Neal,” Alanna said upon reaching their destination. “I would suggest we meet for breakfast together in the mess tomorrow, but just thinking about food is making me queasy again.”

“I’ll bring you some bread then,” Neal said. “Something plain.”

Alanna smiled gratefully at him. “That’s a plan. I’ll stop by your study before I leave.”

Neal nodded, and then shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Milad-I mean, Alanna,” he corrected himself before she could, “I just wanted to, um,” and before Alanna could react he swept her into a tight hug. Alanna stiffened with surprise, but in an instant she melted into her former squire’s arms. It was like hugging one of her sons, both in terms of how it felt to be hugged by a tall, lanky overgrown boy, and also in how she felt about Neal. For a brief moment, the loneliness that had set upon Alanna ever since she first had taken “ill,” lifted, and she could feel warmth flood her body.

After it had become sufficiently awkward, Neal pulled away, his face flushed. Alanna smiled up at him, and said, “Thank you, Neal. For everything.”

“Of course,” Neal replied. “Tomorrow then?”

After assuring Neal that they were still on for breakfast, meager as it would have to be, Alanna retired to her room, both grateful and afraid to be finally alone again.

* * *

 

**III. Reflection**

  
Alanna knew she needed her rest, but despite the comfortable enough bed, she found herself struggling to feel sleepy. Alanna’s thoughts drifted away from the Scanran border, and back to Blue Harbor. George had gotten them a room in a lovely inn that overlooked the ocean, and as she had lain in bed with him, Alanna could hear the waves crashing down below. They left the shutters open most of the time, to catch the warm spring breeze. The air had smelled of salt, and fresh budded plants, and it tickled her bare skin as it blew across her. Alanna remembered how it had felt as George made love to her. How he had drunk her in, like a man in a desert who has just found an oasis. How it had started tender, but quickly escalated into something far more rough and passionate, then come back around to tender by the end of their too-short time together. This was new, this freedom to spend days making love in an inn miles from home, miles from their children. All three of them were off on their own adventures now, which meant that Alanna and George could start to return to the life they had before Thom was born, the easy freedom of the unattached. Alanna had thought she would feel deep sadness when her children were old enough not to need her anymore, and sometimes she did, but when she was in Blue Harbor she had felt only the joy of new possibilities.

Eleni had once gotten an abortion, Alanna knew. Eleni was careful about who she told this to, as some people might wonder if a healer who had had two unplanned pregnancies in such a short period may not be so good at her craft. The secret truth was, George was not unplanned. Eleni had wanted him, wanted him so fiercely that she was willing to put every other aspect of her life in jeopardy just to have him. She was kicked out of the temple, rejected from her family, and left to survive on the streets. Eleni scrimped and saved, worked and struggled, and fought unceasingly for the best possible life she could for her and her young son. When George had aged just past babyhood, Eleni found herself briefly at a point where she no longer felt like she was drowning. She had a moment to breathe, and in that moment she realized she missed the touch of a man. Eleni found someone to watch George for one night, and then went out to a local tavern. She had meant only to flirt, to just dip her toe into what it felt like to be desired again. Of course, flirting can lead to other things, particularly when drink is involved, and before Eleni knew it she had found herself being pushed up against a wall in a dark alley by a handsome gambler. He had grabbed her neck at one point, inadvertently ripping away the cheap chain holding Eleni’s anti-fertility charm. She was enjoying herself far too much to notice, at least not until the next day. By that time it was too late, and when the next month Eleni’s monthlies failed to appear she was hardly surprised. It was a simple decision: there was barely enough money to keep George fed, let alone feed another child. Eleni had sought out a healer, got the herbs she needed, consumed the tea, then spent the following day in bed. The same neighbor from before watched George again for the day, as Eleni hadn’t felt up to caring for a rambunctious young child. Eleni told Alanna that it wasn’t too bad, really, that it was mostly just like a really bad monthly cycle. There were some cramps, bleeding, and some stomach upset, but in only a few days she was back to feeling the same as she always did. Eleni didn’t think much about her abortion, aside from using it as an example for others to learn from. She didn’t mourn the child that could have been. Instead, Eleni mourned that her son grew up impoverished, she despaired over the fact that he turn to theft to make up for the things she had failed to provide for him, and she mourned how early he lost his innocence. “It would have been nice if George had had a sibling,” Eleni once remarked, “but it would have been nicer if he’d had a decent pair of boots for winter.”

That was not a concern for Alanna, for which she was grateful. She had never had to worry that any children she brought into the world wouldn’t have enough food, or warm clothing, or any other material required for survival. But she did worry about whether they got enough love. Thom seemed alright, but Aly was resentful of her upbringing, and Alan was still a bit lost in the world. Alanna knew the blame fell squarely on her shoulders, she’s the one that knew them primarily through letters, or so it sometimes felt. They had missed her when she was gone, and even when she was home her children had had to share her with so many others.

Alanna felt the now familiar fluttering feeling in her stomach. She suddenly realized that that recurring feeling may not have been all just pregnancy sickness, and perhaps instead was the fetus quickening inside of her. Alanna tried to remember how it had felt the last time she had been pregnant, a whole twenty-one years ago. Thayet and Cythera had told her that it got easier after the first time, but Alanna would beg to differ. The twins had been difficult to carry, both active energetic babes who seemed to move at all hours of the day and night. Alanna had been put on bedrest towards the end, a period of time she regarded as one of the most miserable of her life. George had gotten called away for his work several times during all of this, leaving her stuck in bed, left to rely on servants for care, and various friends to alleviate her frustrated, anxious boredom. Midwives were called to check on her regularly, often in semi-invasive ways. The birth wasn’t any easier, and she had ended up suffering from the same complication that had killed her mother. Fortunately her midwives were prepared for this, and Alanna had survived, but the birth of her two youngest remained a terrifying, painful memory in many respects.

There were happy memories too, of course. Kisses, and hugs, and sweet little voices. Tucking them in at night, teaching them things, watching them wonder and grow. Soft baby skin, little baby giggles. Chubby arms and legs, and plump little feet. Alanna may not have been the kind of woman who gushed over babies, but she certainly wasn’t immune to their charms. She remembered when Thayet and she had met little Rikash for the first time.

“Oh, I’ve missed this smell,” Thayet had said in a hushed voice, mindful of the open doorway to the adjoining room where Daine was trying to rest. Thayet leaned down to press her nose to the little boy’s soft head.

“ _Missed_ this?” Alanna had whispered back, reaching out for a turn with the baby. Thayet had made a petulant noise, but dutifully handed him over. He felt so light in Alanna’s arms, and she rocked back and forth gently as she held him. “You just got two new grandchildren in the last year, are you not permitted to smell them for some reason?” Alanna smiled down at Rikash as she teased Thayet. He looked so much like Numair, but in perfect miniature.

Thayet scowled. “I don’t even get to see Binur,” she complained. “But you’re right, Lianokami is almost as good as having my own again.”

Alanna hadn’t been fooled by her friend’s sentimentality. She remembered the story of when Thayet’s youngest had been born. Vania had been a big baby, and a difficult birth, and when the time came for Jon to finally meet his youngest child, Thayet had lost all traces of decorum. As the story infamously went, after the delivery Jon had approached the bed Thayet was recovering in, expecting to delight in the miracle of birth alongside his beautiful wife. Instead the gentle queen had grabbed her husband by the front of his shirt, yanked his face close to hers, and growled through gritted teeth, “I’m done, you hear me? Six big headed children is my limit, so if you want more you can find yourself another broodmare.” Whenever Jon recounted this story he would laugh so hard that tears would leak out of his eyes as he described the horrified faces of the midwives witnessing this encounter.

But still, Alanna could understand exactly Thayet’s longing as they stood there quietly fighting over the baby. She had had a similar conversation with George after the twins were born, but as she had rocked and cooed little Rikash, she could feel herself becoming awash in nostalgia too. She had always assumed that, like Thayet, once her children had started giving her grandchildren, she would get her fill of babies. Grandchildren were supposed to be all of the pleasure and none of the pain of raising your own children, but hers had spent their early years so far away that Alanna had felt slightly cheated by the experience. She knew George certainly did.

Oh George. It wasn’t fair to make this choice without him, but there was no other way. Alanna knew at least that no matter what she decided, George would understand, but she still wished with all her heart that he could be there next to her. She felt herself go hot at the idea of describing her carelessness to him; knowing he wouldn’t blame her didn’t lesson the feeling that she had let him down. As the person in the partnership who possessed both the womb and the Gift, she felt like this aspect of their lovemaking was her responsibility. He trusted her to make sure she was wearing a functional charm, and since she told him she was, George would have had no reason to think they might have been having unprotected sex. Guilt pinched her heart, and Alanna couldn’t help but touch her hand to the ember-stone at her neck, now alone on the chain. She tried to picture what George would say to her if she could speak to him now. 

George would have assured her that it wasn’t her fault, that he was just as responsible as she was for getting into this predicament. He would have told her that at the end of the day it was her choice to make, as it was her body. But just as easily as she could picture his acceptance and love if she decided to terminate her pregnancy, she could also picture him holding a new baby in his arms. She could see him talking to it, gently bathing it, telling it stories, and in all ways loving and doting on it. Alanna thought about the way George faithfully wrote letters to his children and grandchildren every week, even though the children were too immersed in their own lives to respond as regularly, and the grandchildren couldn’t even read.

There was no other man, in any realm in any world, that Alanna would prefer to father her children. Alanna thought about her three children now, how proud she was of them. Thom, well on his way to becoming a great mage, and who also had such a kind, pure heart that if Alanna hadn’t seen him emerge from her body with her own two eyes she wouldn’t have been able to believe he was really her child. Alianne, who was capable of far more greatness than even she realized, who was so clever and fearless that she had outwitted a _god_. And Alan, lively, funny Alan, who was still searching for himself, but even so was well on his way to becoming one of the finest knights in the realm. She and George made very good children together, that Alanna had no doubts about.

When Alanna contemplated what her biggest regret was in life, it took no time at all for her to come to her children, specifically not having spent enough time with them. It’s not that she wasn’t proud of work for the realm, not at all. It was more that she wished she had the power to be in two places at once. One self out on the road, seeing new things and protecting the kingdom, while one self was at home, holding her husband and her children as close as they would let her. Alanna was generally happy with her life, and the things she had done, but lately she couldn’t help but feel the end of this period closing in on her. She was quickly becoming too old to be effective at her work, and had previously begun to seriously contemplate what the next chapter would look like. Alanna knew she would go mad if she didn’t find something to do with her time. She wondered what it would be like to have a baby at her age. Maybe her exhaustion and her old joints should be answer enough. Still though, Alanna had known people who had late-in-life children, and they seemed to survive.

Finally Alanna began to drift off to sleep, just as the dawn birds were coming to life outside her window. As she eased out of consciousness, she thought again about Thom, about the day he was born. She remembered the pain and the fear, but she also remembered the intense joy and the deep satisfaction. Alanna could recall in perfect detail the look on George’s face as he caught his son, and as he held Thom up for her to see. She could remember the way Thom’s small, slick, warm body felt as she held him close against her chest, his cord still connecting him to her. As Thom had made his first attempt to suckle at her breast, Alanna remembered feeling sudden certainty that she had never before made something this good in all her life. She held onto that feeling now, letting the warmth of it flow through her body as she slipped into sleep.

* * *

 

**IV. Emergence**

  
Alanna woke late the next morning, having been up until the wee hours of the morning. She knew Neal wouldn’t mind, and in fact she suspected that had she tried to find him at the dawn hour he would have chided her for not getting enough rest.

After she had readied her things, and ensured the hostlers knew she would be wanting her mount soon, Alanna made her way to Neal’s study.

True to his word, Neal had a small plate for her, filled with some blessedly bland rolls that Neal warmed with the fire of his Gift. It was a camping trick Alanna had taught him during their time together, and she smiled at him in gratitude and good memories.

“I got some farmer’s cheese as well, if you’re feeling peckish. It’s very mild,” Neal said as he handed her the plate. Alanna rather wanted to hug him again, but she was too tired to get out of the surprisingly comfortable chair Neal kept by his hearth.

They ate in companionable silence, Neal reading over a report as he munched a roll, and Alanna reclining in his chair, taking careful nibbles of her food. She was pleased that he didn’t try to break the quiet with chattering, as her mind already felt far too full with just the noise of her own thoughts.

Alanna ate what she felt up to, and then allowed Neal to carefully wrap up the remaining rolls in a small square of cloth for her to take on her return journey. He stood to usher her out of his study, but as he passed in front of the bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, he hesitated.

“Is there anything else you need, before you go?” Neal asked quietly. Alanna knew exactly what he meant, and again felt her heart swell with gratitude as she thanked all the gods that she had ended up with him as a squire.

“Actually, no, I think not,” Alanna replied, flashing him a small smile. When she awoke that morning she had realized that she had come to a decision, and as shocking as it was to her, it also felt _right_.

Neal blinked for a moment, then as he realized what she was saying, he raised an eyebrow. “Well then. Congratulations, I think?”

Alanna nodded, still getting used to this new future. “Yes, thank you. Now I just have to leave the army, return to to Corus, resign from my life’s work, and then I guess…start fixing up our old nursery?” Alanna raised her hands in a half shrug and made of face of uncertainty.

“Someone I know once told me that when she was a child she had thought being an adult meant you always knew what to do, but in reality adulthood is just realizing we’re all making it up as we go along, and that nobody has a clue. Real maturity is just doing the best you can, and not getting too hung up over the pursuit of perfection,” Neal replied with a cheeky grin.

“And you heard this pearl of wisdom from someone really wonderful whom you deeply admired?” Alanna said with a grin of her own, recognizing the story as something she had told him.

“No, I heard it from a grumpy old curmudgeon who I think was just trying to get me to stop whining about my life for one blessed moment,” Neal replied.

Alanna let out a surprised snort of laughter, and swatted him on the arm as she walked past him on her way out of his study.

Neal made sure to see her off, waving from the gate of New Haven until she had rounded the curve in the road. It wasn’t a particularly long ride back, but for Alanna it seemed endless. Out in the woods alone, it was far too easy to get lost in her thoughts, to let creeping fears overtake the calm certainty she held felt that morning in Neal’s study. Listening to the creatures of the northern woods go about their business brought Alanna back to the first journey she had ever undertaken, in these very same woods, albeit some miles away. In a million years, she never could have guessed at the many twists and turns her life had undergone since the fateful day she had first left Trebond. At ten it had been easy to take risks; she had been filled to the brim with determination and naïveté, a potent combination, but now she was older, and it was so much easier to see the ways in which it might all go wrong.

Alanna’s stomach fluttered again, and she touched it briefly, thinking about the life she was carrying now. She thought again about Thom, and the twins, letting her love and her pride for them soak through her veins, driving back the fear for the time being. As the sun streamed through the pine trees on either side of her, Alanna tried to think about all the ways in which things could go _right_. She thought about the letter burning a hole in her saddlebag right now, the one she had written as soon as she had awaken that morning. She hadn’t been fully certain when she started it, but by the time she reached the end Alanna had known exactly what she needed to say:

> _I would apologize for the new token of our affection, but I remember how you always teased that you would be happy for more children. I also remember that when you tease you often speak the truth. So here I come, my belly leading the way, to fulfill your wish just a little._  
>  _With all my love,_  
>  _and a new hatchling in my nest,_  
>  _Alanna_

  
Alanna had no idea what her future held, but she had trust in herself that she was capable of making something perfect out of it.

**Author's Note:**

> In all honesty, I was really surprised by the news in Tortall: A Spy’s Guide. I always pictured Alanna and George as hip retired folks, visiting the grandkids in between adventures like climbing Machu Picchu and traveling cross country on motorcycles (or whatever the Tortall equivalent is of that). This fic is meant to be my attempt to understand how Alanna might have ended up deciding to retire and try her hand at being a stay-at-home mom. I think part of why I like Alanna is she’s filled with a lot of contradictions, just like most of us are. She’s a tough, badass who isn’t afraid to get dirty, but she also loves dresses, and makeup (and baths). She’s an adventurer at heart, but she also wants to be home with the people she loves. In the letter in Tortall: A Spy’s Guide, Alanna is clearly pretty excited about having another baby, so I have to think that meant she had at least some pretty positive memories of her other three children. As someone who is steadfastly pro-choice I thought the only fair thing to have Alanna do would be to weigh up all of her choices, and then find the future that felt most right to her.


End file.
